The Truth Inside
by K Arieus
Summary: A story for someone special. OCxOC, in a manner not often seen. Rated: Mature, containing softcore femdom


Sougo grimaced as the manacles were attached to his hands and feet, binding them together. He wondered, vaguely, if he'd even be a threat to the Frost Queen if he were able to attack her. The majority of him doubted it, knowing some of the power that she had at her disposal. He'd seen men crumple before her, sobbing and shaking, from but a single look. She commanded great power indeed.

"Stay here until she summons ya," the old crone cackled, going inside ahead of him. It was the old woman's responsibility to alert the Queen that she had a visitor, which more often than not meant him, as far as he'd been able to tell. He looked down to his chains, and pulled his arms up, but the would come up no higher than his stomach. Frowning, he tried to move his neck, but he'd already forgotten the collar was there.

"Enter." The voice was calm, cool, serene. Sougo knew immediately that it belonged to the Frost Queen. And despite the fact that he really _didn't_ want to enter, he found his feet shuffling forward, unable to resist the pull of her words. The room he entered into reminded him slightly of a dining room, though he knew quite well what this room was for. White was one of the words he'd choose to describe the area. That was the color of the walls, which appeared to be marble, much like the floor.

A single, long table filled the central area, and She sat at one end, her long, black hair flowing down her back. Her body was clothed in a very simple sundress that slowly faded to blue as it neared her feet. "Come closer, slave," she commanded again in the same tone she used before. And once more, Sougo found himself compelled to obey, and walked toward her at a slightly quick pace, not wanting to be the target of her anger. "No," she snapped, and his feet stopped, as if by their own volition. "Crawl."

Without a question in his mind, nor any sort of rebuttal, he dropped to his knees, placing his hands on the ground in front of him. The chain that connected his hands to his feet felt cold against his knees, but he didn't stop to shiver as he crawled forward as commanded, earning a warm, yet power-hungry smile from her. He kept his head low, not wanting to look at her face, to see that cruel smile that he knew was there.

It took him a great deal of time to make it over to her, especially considering that the chains impeded his movement, and there were the times that he set his knee down on the metal instead of the floor, causing him to wince in pain and pause for a half-second. But as he drew close, he could feel his heart hammering in his chest as he knew what was going to come next. She gave him a look, as if he should know what to do.

He hesitated, but then crawled under the table, and lifted the bottom hem of her dress, placing his upper body underneath of its protective shell. His eyes fell upon her legs, crossed in an effort to keep her innermost area warm. Slowly, they uncrossed and spread, giving him a view of the last layer of protection, which were the same ice blue as her eyes. "Remove them," she commanded, and the chain clinked as his hands began to reach up. Suddenly, the pointed heel of her stiletto-like shoes was pressed into the flesh just shy of his own member. "With your tongue, you bitch," she said, her tone still pleasant, though there was the undercurrent of venom.

Swallowing hard, he leaned forward, and used his hands to support himself on either side of the chair. His tongue slipped under the top seam, and she moved enough to give him the ability to actually carry out what had been asked of him. The strain from the overextension of his tongue was a familiar thing to him, and he ignored the pain as he managed to pull her undergarments to her thighs, his tongue unintentionally grazing her inner thigh as he did so.

Lips dry, he swabbed his tongue over them once, giving his tongue a rest before he extended it again, catching onto them again, managing to pull them down her thighs and around her calves. It was nothing more than a simple thong, though he could smell from it her wetness, which made him wonder if she had another in here before himself. With the last little bit, he managed to pull them down around her heels, dropping them to the floor.

Her hands reached down then, her long, slender fingers ending in the dagger-like icicles as she dug slightly into his flesh for a second. He then felt pressure on the collar at his neck as his face was hauled upward to where she sat. Then the ring on the front of the collar snapped into the awaiting lock on the base of the chair, forcing his face to be inches from her. Inhaling, he could smell something that reminded him of sweat and faintly of fish. However, before he had time to ponder it, her nails dug into his back, reminding him of his position and his responsibilities.

Hesitantly, he extended his tongue, running it along the groove that protected her insides. However, as he had come to expect from her, there was no noise from her, no indication that she had even felt him. But he knew why. This was not something that was for their mutual enjoyment, so she didn't have to let him know how she was feeling, to let him know that he was doing a good job. He was her slave, and thus, this was all for her. He was _expected_ to give her pleasure.

Moving his head forward a bit more, so that the collar chafed at his exposed skin, he slid his tongue just inside her, slowly running it up and down the warm, soft flesh that was inside of her. The taste of her juices were made quite aware to his tongue, which led him to believe that she was already quite warmed up for this, something that was unusual. However, as the male he was, the taste of such a thing caused his senses to override with the pleasures of the flesh, and his tongue probed further inward, finding some of her more sensitive areas, though the reach made it difficult to get to them. The pain was already causing his lower jaw to scream out in pain, but he did not relent, as he knew the sooner she was satisfied, the sooner he'd be able to return to his cell.

A minute passed, and then two, as he forced his tongue to extend, reaching inside of her, and finally, he began to taste something like new wetness, which meant she was finally becoming aroused. "You must be eager to please me today, slave," she said, giving a light giggle of amusement. "Here, I'll give you what you want." Slowly, her lower torso moved forward, so that it was pressing against his face. Because of the lock on his collar, attaching him to the chair, he had nowhere to move. Angling his neck by leaning his head backwards slightly was the only way he could breath through his nose, a system he'd worked out on the first day.

His tongue probed outward, though he no longer had to overextend it, and danced against her inner flesh. He knew the sensitive places to touch, and did so sparingly, as if he brought her to orgasm too quickly, she would punish him just as badly as if he failed. She enjoyed protracted pleasure, and doing so too quickly would end the effect. Pushing those thoughts aside, as thinking was a good way to lose concentration, he focused solely on what was in front of him, his tongue gently moving over her insides, bringing her to a climax as slow as he could.

Suddenly, she began to close her legs on him, the soft, smooth skin dragging against his shoulders. "I don't think you're concentrating well enough, you little bitch. You _know_ that I'm more important that whatever's going through that pathetic little mind of yours. Here, I'll help you," she finished demurely as her thighs clasped around his head, blocking his hearing. He could feel the legs cross behind his head, and the pointed end of her left foot rested at the base of his spine.

He could no longer see or hear anything; his whole world was now her. She was all around him, comforting and suffocating. At first, he thought it would still be difficult to reach her with his tongue, but interestingly enough, because his head was close enough, it caused her thighs to be spread enough apart to provide enough access to him. Or, more accurately, they were spread enough apart so that he could still pleasure her. Again, he pushed the thoughts away as his tongue sought out her vaginal area again, lightly brushing against the insides of her thighs as it traveled there.'

As he sat in that world of utter darkness, unable to see or hear, and only able to taste, touch, and smell her, time passed around him. His tongue continued to slide against her innermost area, the sweet, comforting taste of her juices contrasting greatly with the occasional sharp, pungent drop of urine, but it was like pain on top of pleasure, the momentary discomfort only heightened the taste of her insides, made it that much more desirable. He knew not how long he was in that world, but he found himself slowly becoming accustomed to it, and _liking _it. Eventually, he judged the time having been sufficient, and began to more play around her sensitive area, his tongue running over it more and more.

Though he would rarely hear her mutter anything that sounded like pleasure, he knew that her body could not lie. In the soft thighs that surrounded his skull, he could feel the spasms racing through her, drawing closer to an orgasm. Her legs tightened painfully around his head as his tongue moved with more force, using the tiny taste buds to further accentuate the pleasure, and he could tell she was on the verge. Suddenly, the juices that had been coming out so sparingly began to flow, and he was quick to use his tongue to prevent them from covering his face, lapping them up as if he were a dog.

Slowly, she withdrew from him, sliding backward on her chair so as to give him more breathing room, and he thankfully drew in deep, gulping breaths, returning oxygen to his body. "You've been quite interesting today, my slave," she said softly, her own breath returning to normal. "Perhaps you liked what I did for you..?" she asked, her hand reaching down under the table and dragging her nails painfully across his back.

"Y...yes mistress," he said softly, still trying to recover his breath. He still wasn't entirely aware of his surroundings, now, as he'd become so used to that world of darkness and sweat. At his response, she let out a light laugh, and he wondered if he'd said something wrong.

"Well then, if you want to continue to be a bitch, I'm going to keep treating you like one..." Reaching down, her fingers unsnapped the collar holding him to the chair, as she knew that he was now caught, as men were, by the sex, no matter what form it came in. She seemed to be fumbling with something up on her table with her other hand, and then brought whatever it was down, and with a wince, he knew exactly what it was: her strap-on. However, instead of putting it on, as she normally did, she turned it the other way, gently pushing it into herself. A sound came from her, and he realized that she must be extremely bad, today.

Her fingers then moved the object toward him, and it took him a second to realize that she was strapping it onto his face. He sat, dumbfounded for a few seconds, not entirely sure what he was supposed to do. Suddenly, her fingers clutched a handful of his hair, and pulled him toward her, sliding the object deep within it. "Fuck me like the dog you are," she whispered harshly, her grip relaxing slightly, but not letting go of his hair. He leaned backward, pulling it out, then moved forward again, once more plunging the object into her. "Yes...good dog..." she moaned as he continued.

Sougo was confused, as she was showing far more emotion than she ever did, and wondered if he'd manage to please her in some way, to show him just what she was feeling. She had been kind enough to show him that world of darkness, where there was only her. He had thought, previously, that he detested her, and all of this, but this was a side of her that he'd never seen. It...confused him. As he continued, her legs slowly spread apart, and he moved faster, the object being driven into her again and again. Her grip, which had slackened on his hair, tightened as the time went on, pulling him into her at increasingly violent speeds, enough so that the roots of his hair screamed out in protest each time she pulled him forward. "Come on, you little bitch," she said, her voice managing to ignore the feelings of eroticism in the room, cutting right to him.

Her stomach quivered as he moved, and he could tell that she was close again. This was unlike anything he'd encountered before with her. Normally, she'd keep him chained to her chair for eight-to-ten hours before allowing him to leave, and bring in another. She was, as she'd told her slaves time and time again, more important than anything else. That they should feel honored to be the one who was giving her pleasure, as she _deserved_ to be in a constant state of arousal. Her pleasure was worth more than anything else that they could comprehend, and she made sure that they knew that.

With one final pull, she gripped his hair painfully, her heels digging into either side of his body as her breath came in ragged gasps. "Good...dog..." she whispered, relinquishing her grip on his hair, and withdrawing her heels. His neck ached badly from the last few minutes, but he didn't say anything, not wanting to cause him to fall out of her good graces. Her hand reached down, gripping the strap-on swiftly, removing it from around his head as she slid her chair outward. Sougo winced, as he knew what was going to come next.

She slipped both straps of the sun dress, allowing it to fall at her feet unceremoniously. A tight-fitting leather bodice covered her upper body, and her own vaginal area was now covered by the strap-on, which still glistened with her own juices. "You're not done yet, you little bitch. Get that ass into the air," she said, all manner of her former self gone. Perhaps she was now angry at letting herself slip, and was going to take it out on him. That was the only thought that made sense as he scrambled onto all fours, doing his best to raise up his backside. He knew from experience that it was best to let her do as she wished, as denying her was only rewarded by making it last longer, and often more painfully.

"That's a good little slut..." she whispered kindly, the words not matching the tone at all as she placed her left palm on his side to steady herself as she wrapped her right around its base, and probed the entrance to his insides. His muscles immediately spasmed in protest, but they had long since been trained, and quickly quieted down, allowing her to enter him, something that always caused him to dig his fingers into the floor, clenching his teeth to prevent screaming. At first. The first few times were always hell as his body got used to it.

As time went on, however, and his muscles loosened up, he always regretted admitting that he _enjoyed_ it, as it brought him a new level of pleasure that he had never before felt. At least, until he'd been taken in by the Frost Queen. However, they were still in the initial stages, and he held his breath, still forcing his legs to hoist his backside into the air, lest she grow angry with him. Soon, the pain began to fade, and he couldn't help his own sounds of pleasure, much as he tried to hide it. "What, you like this?" she asked, that cheerful, happy tone behind the words that should never be there. "Tell me you want it, you bitch," she said softly. Still struggling to breathe, he didn't answer right away, and she pulled it out of him, resting it on his back. "Should I stop?" she asked, curiously.

"N-no...please mistress," he whispered, and she placed the tip of it at the entrance again.

"Then tell me you want it." Her voice was cold again, demanding.

"I...I want it. Please mistress," he managed to get out, and suddenly she filled him again from behind, and he again hated himself for admitting how _right_ it felt.

"See? That wasn't so hard," she said, her tone once more happy and friendly as she moved, sliding it in and out of him. He couldn't help but move along too, leaning back into her as she moved forward, letting the feeling fill him. The strap-on was designed, as he found, to give her pleasure too as she moved, brushing against her inside as she thrust against him. Otherwise, he had the feeling that she wouldn't be doing this, as it would have had no real purpose for her.

He had no idea how much time passed as he lay upon the floor, letting her ram into him again and again, a small pool of his own saliva gathering at the corner of his mouth. As time went on, she had switched her hands, each gripping the front of his thighs and using them for more leverage as her nails dug into the tender flesh. "Aren't you lucky to have a mistress like me, slave? One who is responsive to your needs like this?" she asked.

"Yes mistress," he agreed quickly and easily, not wanting to know what was behind that veiled threat of hers. He heard a noise that sounded like acceptance of his words, and then her motions became faster and more violent, though he didn't notice, feeling only the pressure on his own sensitive area. He let out a moan, which caused her to laugh as she continued, obviously enjoying the pure control that she held over him.

As he was drawing close to his own orgasm, she pulled out of him, and smirked. His body quivered, but it was not yet there. It was close, but he was not quite there, and he couldn't reach it by thoughts and memories alone. He heard the strap-on hit the floor, and he knew that she'd taken it off. "You didn't behave, my little bitch. You know that I don't like hearing you." His body slumped to the floor, as he knew she was right. She'd told him before she didn't like hearing him. Why hadn't he remembered? Before he knew what was happening next, her fingers had wrapped around a clump of his hair and was dragging him back over to the chair. He didn't resist as she clipped him to it again.

With her agility, she slipped into the chair again, pressing herself against his face, filling his senses with the same scent of old sweat and phermones. "You've been bad, you little whore, moaning like that. Did I tell you you could?" she asked, coldly.

"N-no mistress. I'm sorry, mistress," he managed to get out, though his words were muffled by the presence of her right in his face.

"That's right. I didn't. I was going to let you go early today, too. But instead, I think I'll keep you all day today. And you had _better _keep me entertained, slave," she said sweetly, wrapping her legs around his head again, though this time her left heel dug into his back, causing him pain down his backside. Once more, he was placed into that world of darkness, where she was the only thing that his senses beheld. Nothing to hear, nothing to see, and her being invaded his other senses. But he knew that, if he didn't do what she asked, it would be worse, much worse. Gently, he extended his tongue, wondering just if he'd be able to last the next twelve hours.


End file.
